the prophets of doom descend...
the car's on fire
and there's no driver at the wheel
and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
and a dark wind blows
the government is corrupt
and we're all so many drunks with the radio on and the curtains drawn
we are trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
and the machine is bleeding to death
the sun has fallen down
and the billboards are all learing
and the flags are all dead
at the top of their poles
it went like this:
the buildings toppled in on themselves
mothers, clutching babies, picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair
the skyline was beautiful on fire
all twisted metal stretching upwards
everything washed in a thin orange haze
i said, "kiss me you're beautiful -- these are truly the last days"
you grabbed my hand
and we fell into it
like a daydream,
or a fever
we woke up one morning and we fell a little further down
for sure as the valley of death
i open up my wallet
and it's full of blood.
with an eerily familiar refrain...
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Love,
Robotsatemyhair